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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25665193">An Explosive Concoction of Hope and Despair</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/luxettenebrae/pseuds/luxettenebrae'>luxettenebrae</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Adventure, Alternate Universe - Non-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Chases, Cigars, Eating, Explosions, F/M, Festivals, Fire, Fireworks, Flirting, Food, Fun, Gen, Hope vs. Despair, No Angst, Running Away, Tanabata, Teasing, Threats of Violence, best not to read!, if you're triggered by or squick is related to explosions &amp; weapons, in true danganronpa fashion, it's light-hearted tho!, missile - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 03:42:39</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,424</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25665193</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/luxettenebrae/pseuds/luxettenebrae</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Makoto gets chased all over the place during the Tanabata festival night by one extremely dangerous and explosive Junko Enoshima. Can't he just have a normal and non-life threatening high school experience, for once?<br/>—————————————————————<br/>If you were to wonder what the Ultimate Luckster Makoto Naegi was up to at this very moment... Well, the answer was that he was in a world of trouble.<br/>“Gah! Why are you doing this to me?!”<br/>Makoto just barely dodged an explosion as he dived toward the takoyaki stand to his left, rolled and got to his knees, and started running again.<br/>If this sounded like a practiced movement, that was because it was. Makoto had been dodging explosions and running away from the Ultimate Despair sisters for the past half-hour: well, mostly Junko, because if Mukuro were chasing him, she already would have caught him, what with her military training and reflexes.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Enoshima Junko &amp; Naegi Makoto, Enoshima Junko/Naegi Makoto, Kirigiri Kyoko &amp; Naegi Makoto</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>49</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>An Explosive Concoction of Hope and Despair</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello, hello! It's Lux, here. For once, I'm not posting Obey Me! on here.<br/>This is a commission I took on last year but then later received a second commission to revise and add onto the original! I enjoyed working with the commissioner and hearing their many, varied, exciting ideas, so I can't take credit for their ideas, but their identity remains anonymous at their request.<br/>This was supposed to be posted on the day of the Tanabata festival in early July, but due to declining mental health, it took me a lot longer than initially foreseen to work on and finish the commission.<br/>Either way, I hope you enjoy the adventure with Makoto as Junko throws explosions and all kinds of potentially lethal dangers at him! Does Hope or Despair win at the end of the night? Read to find out!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>If you were to wonder what the Ultimate Luckster Makoto Naegi was up to at this very moment... Well, the answer was that he was in a world of trouble. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gah! Why are you doing this to me?!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto just barely dodged an explosion as he dived toward the takoyaki stand to his left, rolled and got to his knees, and started running again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If this sounded like a practiced movement, that was because it was. Makoto had been dodging explosions and running away from the Ultimate Despair sisters for the past half-hour: well, mostly Junko, because if Mukuro were chasing him, she already would have caught him, what with her military training and reflexes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto gritted his teeth and pushed through the crowd of people. It was the day of the Tanabata festival. He should have been out having fun with his classmates and friends, but instead, he was stuck entertaining Junko and her antics by running for his life tonight. He ditched the yukata for convenience and was wearing only a plain shirt and shorts. He was starting to get pretty tired. After all, he was only an average kid with average athletic ability and a tiny bit of luck. He was beginning to think getting into Hope’s Peak Academy was not good luck as he had initially thought after having to fight for his life on what seemed like a monthly basis. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stopped to catch his breath and leaned against a tent. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, are you the guy coming in for the next shift?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto started to respond to the person coming out of the tent but gets interrupted before he could answer. Something like a hollow sphere plopped down on top of his sweaty face, and the inside did not smell great. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s great because I’m tired of dealing with the kids. Go inside and put on the rest of the costume. I’m free for the rest of the night,” the guy said, and Makoto heard cheerful whistling as he struggled to stand to his feet. He stumbled inside the tent. He could barely see out of whatever heavy object the guy put on him, but he could see a mirror, and it looked like he was wearing...a teddy bear head? He sighed. It was just his luck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wait...just his luck? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He spotted the rest of the costume and put it on. Hopefully, Junko could not recognize him in this outfit. But it sure was hot in the costume, so it had better do its job. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto toddled out of the tent. Might as well do his job while he was dressed for it. It would help disguise him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Or so he thought, but he did not predict getting run over by children. Literally. He felt like he was being slowly stomped into dust on the ground by thousands of little kid feet, and he could hear whooping above him. He had pretty much given up until he saw a hand outstretched in front of him. He reached out, and the hand gripped his hand, pulling him out of the mess. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you so much,” he said. Makoto thought he was going to cry from relief. But that was when the hand that had helped him stretched out and tugged the ear of his mascot head. The head dropped to the floor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was Junko who had pulled him up, and she was smiling ecstatically, a fat, luxurious cigar wedged in between those pink lips of hers, the cigar drooping from its weight and sparkling in an excessively flamboyant manner. The sparks from the tip of the burning cigar were flying every which way, which served well as a more festive look for the night of Tanabata, but if Makoto knew Junko at all, the true reason for the constant stream of sparks had more to do with the excitement of possible danger by existing as a fire hazard and thus becoming an opportunity for further, greater despair. The cigar itself looked branded and expensive: as expected of a fashionista like Junko, Makoto supposed, but it was the largest, fanciest cigar he had ever seen—excepting perhaps the one Celeste regularly had on her when inviting him to gamble with her. When he took a closer look—well, as much of a look as he could while not getting any nearer to her, since it could prove explosive and deadly—the cigar had a black and white label with an image of...Monokuma? Makoto shook himself out of his thoughts; now was not the best time to be mulling over Junko’s questionably gaudy and abnormally large cigar, especially if he wanted to keep his body intact. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>However, taken aback by Junko’s sudden and flashy reappearance, Makoto watched open-mouthed as she took a piece of dynamite from her hand purse and stuffed it in his mouth like feeding a carrot to a horse. She leaned in sultrily with the cigar still perched perfectly in her lips and touched the end of her glowing cigar to the now lit fuse of his dynamite. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Junko started walking backward, chuckling and watching as Makoto, with a red face, yanked the stick of dynamite out of his mouth frantically and chucked it as far as he could throw from civilization and ran in the opposite direction. He winced upon hearing the boom and took a look at Junko, who seemed unaffected. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course. She was wearing earplugs. And a rather pretty yukata, for that matter. For once, her hair was not in two ponytails, but one, and she had a single Monokuma pin adorning her hair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto sighed and stripped off the mascot outfit, which was sticky from his sweat and uncomfortable either way. It was no help disguising himself from her. She seemed to have a sixth sense just for finding him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even so, he managed to slip away in the crowd of people and purchase a large stick of fluffy, pink cotton candy. As he was about to take a bite, however, Junko popped into view once again. He internally sighed as he watched her stride closer with a scheming grin on her face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Makoto, I made something just for you. Why don’t you have a bite?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She thrust a platter of takoyaki balls toward him, and he instinctively backstepped when he realized something was very, very wrong with the unassuming plate of food. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, thanks!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Junko kept inching forward with slow steps as Makoto hastily retreated, and she smiled with gleaming, white teeth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come now, Makoto. Don’t be shy,” she laughed, holding out the steaming, perfectly cooked takoyaki balls toward him, her arms outstretched trying to force him to take the suspicious plate of food. Makoto eyed it as she came closer and closer. His eyes widened in shock for what must have been the hundredth time that night.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are those sparklers? What are you trying to feed me, anyway?! Stop, don’t give that to me!” Junko simply smiled, like she expected Makoto would give in soon enough, the way cornered prey might give in to a powerful predator. As Junko’s advances became more aggressive, Makoto reached out impulsively and shoved the plate away from him. “I can’t eat that, I’ll die!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s the point-” Junko began to say, but the takoyaki balls drenched in thick, brown sauce, along with the lit sparklers and explosives wedged in between them, were thrown back toward her from the force of Makoto’s push, and they subsequently fell into her open mouth. Reflexively, Junko swallowed the contents of the platter whole. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto and Junko stared at each other for a moment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, uh-” Makoto stuttered. “S-Sorry?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why was he apologizing, anyway? Junko had just been trying to get him to swallow it only seconds ago. If there was nothing wrong with it, then it should not be a problem for her to eat it herself. Except that there </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> something wrong with it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A muffled sizzling sound coming from Junko’s stomach caught her attention, and she ecstatically smiled as she dove forward and grabbed Makoto, hugging him as tightly as possible while he was caught off-guard. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, the despair!” she exclaimed gleefully. “We’ll be blasted to kingdom come in just a few more moments, even though I couldn’t get you to eat it properly.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And why would I eat it?! Let go of me-” Makoto protested, struggling violently in her grasp to no avail. Junko plopped a perfectly manicured hand over his mouth with a sharp look. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut up, Makoto. I want to enjoy this moment, and you’re ruining it,” she cheerfully said, although her eyes were deadly. Makoto had nothing much to say anymore, anyway, since it was clear that Junko was not about to let him go—but that was not going to stop him from trying to getaway. He was never going to give in to despair; it was against his very nature. He continued to squirm in Junko’s bear hug, although escape was unlikely, and Junko began counting down to the explosion happily. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“3...2...1…!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto screwed his eyes shut nervously and braced himself. Not that it was going to make a difference in the face of dangerous explosives, but he could at least pretend he had an iota of control over the ridiculous situation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Only, nothing happened, and he was still intact half a minute later. Junko let go of him, shrugging. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Must’ve been a dud,” she nonchalantly said. “Too bad. I thought I’d gotten you that time.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She brought her cigar to her lips, which was still ostensibly sparkling, and Makoto could not help but stare at it again. It was the kind of prop that drew attention wherever it went, even if you saw it before. As he was watching, mesmerized, a small, pale white moth fluttered toward it in looping movements. Makoto flinched when it landed on the burning tip of the cigar and smoldered into ashes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Junko chuckled, unruffled, and seemingly amused. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, that’s the fourth one tonight.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto lifted his eyes to meet hers, which were burning like the end of her cigar despite their icy blue hue. She was smiling as usual, but Makoto couldn’t restrain the shiver that ran down his back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The fourth moth that burned to death on your cigar?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She smirked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” Her crystalline blue eyes bored into him. “Pity that I just can’t get you to join them,” she commented offhandedly. “After all,” she brought an elegant, white hand to his tan cheek, “you’re the one I want the most, Makoto.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another chill, not unlike her fiery, cold eyes, came over him like a douse of ice water. He stared back at her, his jaw set.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I won’t join them. Not now, not ever.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Junko laughed, the sound hollow and high-pitched. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll get you one of these days.” She paused and put a hand to her chest, where she casually drew out a colorful stick of dynamite as if simply fishing her phone out of her pocket. “Maybe it’ll be today?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a swift movement that looked all too natural to her, she lit the dynamite, tossing it carelessly into a taiyaki stand—which was thankfully unattended and without any festival-goers nearby. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto’s eyes were glued to the soaring arc of the dynamite as it dropped to the food stall, his jaw gaping. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you doing?!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Junko crossed her arms with a smug smile and took the cigar from her lip, tapping it delicately to get the ashes off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, just going blast fishing.” Puzzled, Makoto gave her a bewildered look. “You’ll see soon enough,” she cackled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The taiyaki stand blew up, bursting into a multitude of colors and a dazzling show of lights, becoming a kaleidoscopic display as the many taiyaki pastries flew out of the stall by the dozen and proceeded to rain from the sky like meteorites. Junko held out her hand and happened to catch one of the flaming taiyaki with a piece of apparently inflammable wax paper. She offered it to Makoto with a bright, almost innocent grin as if she had not just blown up a food stall like a maniac. Correction: she </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>a maniac. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here, want one? They’re perfectly cooked.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto shook his head adamantly, his eyes darting around as he watched the countless blazing taiyaki fall from the sky like blistering meteorites from space. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m good.” Remembering the cotton candy he bought, clutched safely in his hand, he took a look and sighed in relief to see that it was still okay. “I’ll eat my cotton candy, thank you very much.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Junko surveyed him as he took a bite, her face blank. Makoto tried to forget she was there, but it was hard, veering on impossible to ignore the presence of someone like Junko, who was the definition of presence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turned his back to her to ignore her, but Junko called out to him in a manner of seconds after Makoto started eating his cotton candy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Makoto!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turned to walk the opposite direction, away from Junko, but he took no more than a few steps before coming face-to-face with her once again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Junko?! Ah!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He started backing away. With all that she had put him through tonight, he knew this would not end well for him if he stuck around. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You scream at me like I’m a monster or something,” she said, feigning hurt. “You wound me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto looked around for an escape as always, but the crowd was dense tonight, as it was each year. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why do you keep trying to set explosives off near me? You’re going to kill me,” he said exasperatedly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Junko twisted a stray piece of blonde hair around her finger, looking bored. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, yeah, that’s kind of the point. What did you think I was trying to do?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shook his head. There was no point in trying to reason with her. It was a better idea to walk away. But before he knew it, he was stopped in his tracks. Something heavy was now attached to his back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turned to see Junko a few feet away, standing where she had been earlier. And she was slowly raising a string to her lit cigar. Makoto’s eyes followed the string. It was attached to whatever was on his back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He did not have eyes on his back and could not know </span>
  <em>
    <span>exactly</span>
  </em>
  <span> what was on his back, but he had enough sense to know that whatever it was, a string attached to it getting lit did </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> bode well for him in the least. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sprinted over to stop her, but it was too late. She winked, and within moments, he was racing into the sky on a bumpy ride. Makoto grabbed at the ropes attaching whatever it was to his back, and they surprisingly tore with ease. Huh. Okay, note to self to try that first instead of trying to stop a despair-crazed high school girl. And for some reason, fireworks were already going on, dangerously close to him. Were they not supposed to be at the end of the festival? And farther away from crowds of people, so no one was hurt? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But the problem now was that he was hurtling out of the night sky. Luckily, he had not flown too high before dismantling the ropes. He closed his eyes, bracing for the impact of the hard ground—but he felt nothing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto opened his eyes only to see Junko’s face inches from his. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whoa!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She just caught him from the sky, and they were standing in a clearing at the festival’s entrance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, you’re heavier than you look,” she laughed and threw him aside, his tailbone hitting the hard ground. He groaned and slowly got up on his feet, rubbing his backside. Why did he feel like he already was an old man when he was just a high schooler?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It wasn’t a compliment,” she smirked and lit a firework with her cigar, tossing it into the sky. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So it was her, after all, who had been setting off fireworks in the middle of the festival. He should have known. It was unsafe and untimely, after all. But, speaking of unsafe and untimely, a huge pile of explosives had just been carted over behind her, likely courtesy of Mukuro. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Junko did not even have to look behind her before she took a step back and plopped down onto the messy stacks of dynamite, a lazy smile on her lips as she puffed away at her cigar. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“W-What are you doing?!” Makoto stammered. “You’re going to blow yourself up like that! And it’ll probably hurt people at the festival too since there are so many explosives!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Junko rolled her eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Again, that’s kind of the point of me sitting here. Way to state the obvious.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Confused, Makoto rephrased his words. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Weren’t you trying to blow me up?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Junko laughed and shrugged. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, but this is fun too. Just part of the excitement, you know?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something strange was swirling in those pale blue eyes of her, and Makoto had seen that look enough to know what it meant. She was enjoying the thrill of despair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Suit yourself, I guess,” Makoto said, backing away for what seemed like the umpteenth time of the night. “But keep me out of it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Junko pouted and pursed her lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re no fun! Why don’t you come over here and sit next to me, Makoto?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shook his head, eyes wide, and started to turn and walk away. But before he knew it, he felt a hand on his shoulder forcefully stop him and turn him so that he faced its owner once again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, don’t be lame,” Junko sighed. “Here, take this, and this,” she said. She took her cigar out of her mouth and popped it into Makoto’s mouth, who coughed slightly from the smoke but tried not to drop it on the ground. Then Junko promptly pushed an armful of dynamite and other varied explosives into Makoto’s arms, who automatically caught them. It was his nature to be </span>
  <span>a pushover</span>
  <span> helpful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, what are you doing? Why are you giving me your cigar?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto tried not to drop anything, but then he realized he had a smoking cigar in his mouth, and if it happened to light any fuses, he would be dead. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Blow some stuff up, dude! Don’t be a drag and rain on my parade,” Junko smirked. “All you gotta do is put the end of the cigar to the fuse!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto immediately dropped all of the explosives on the ground, and they clattered against each other noisily as they fell and rolled around. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why would I want to do that?!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s fun!” Junko cackled and scooped a few more sticks of dynamite back into Makoto’s arms, shoving them against his chest in a pushy manner. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto threw them away from himself and took the cigar out of his mouth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not you! I don’t enjoy blowing things up or near-death experiences,” he said exasperatedly. “Stop giving me explosives, and take your cigar back.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Junko eyed him for a good few seconds before taking the cigar from Makoto’s fingers and putting the cigar back in her mouth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ooh! Indirect kiss,” she squealed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto winced and wiped his mouth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That was so unnecessary,” he replied dryly, unamused. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Unnecessary, but true!” she sings in his ear, and Junko swings an arm over his shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yo, take a look over there. I got it for my last birthday,” Junko said proudly and pointed to a large, shadowy figure in the distance, but still rather close to the festival.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He raised his head to look at what was over there. It was rather big and towering over the trees where it had been placed. A...Junko statue? Makoto started to sweat. It was giving him bad vibes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sure enough, the real Junko had separated from him and was standing a few feet away from him, holding a TNT plunger. He attempted to grab it from her, but he was still weak in the knees after getting tossed like a salad in the air from being an unwilling participant to his little fireworks adventure. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She pushed down on the TNT plunger triumphantly and cackled as the statue burst into pieces. Makoto breathed in sharply and watched as the festival descended into chaos. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>People were running around screaming as rubble on fire fell from the skies and rained upon the festival booths, setting things on fire and destroying merchandise. Before this, no one had batted an eye at their explosives and fireworks, since it just seemed like a couple flirting weirdly, the explosives seemed fake, and fireworks were normal any way, but now that safety was severely compromised, everyone was turning to point fingers at Makoto and Junko. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Junko could care less. She was hoping to see a piece of flaming rubble land on Makoto, who was still standing out in the open carelessly. It was then that she saw a figure grab his arm and pull him away, and she punched the booth nearby in anger, which collapsed under her force and a stray boulder, the plastic poles holding it snapping in half easily. She had been so close. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, Makoto. It’s not safe here,” said Kyouko. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto let him get dragged away, and then took a second look at Kyouko, who had let go of him after he was now walking without her prompting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re here at the festival?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nodded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, and I’ve been watching you run around like a trapped mouse.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto stopped walking in the middle of the road to gawk at her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve been watching? And you didn’t say anything?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyouko sighed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. Can we keep walking? I’m not going to be lucky enough to avoid getting struck down with flaming rubble like you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto started walking again but at a faster pace to accommodate Kyouko’s stride. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “But could you help me escape her? I just wanted to have a good time at the festival tonight, but I’m stuck trying to run away from her all night instead.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Runaway from who?” a voice said imperiously. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto turned to see Junko sitting on a rocket barely a meter away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Junko!” He turned to ask Kyouko for help, but the detective had already disappeared into the night. He curled his hand into a fist in irritation. Sometimes she could be so...</span>
  <em>
    <span>ugh!</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Come here, Makoto,” Junko beckoned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto was about to politely refuse before he felt something hard pressing at his back. He had never felt one pressed to his back before, but he was guessing this was a gun, probably operated by Mukuro. A chill ran down his back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, okay, I get it! I’m coming.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With little other choices, he walked over and climbed onto the rocket with Junko, taking a seat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good boy,” Junko said, grinning and patting him on the head, ruffling his brown hair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not a dog,” he sighed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are if I say you are,” Junko said. She held up the fuse in one hand, and in her other hand, she momentarily pinched her cigar between elegantly manicured fingers and tapped it. Its glowing ashes fell onto the fuse, and within moments, the two were flying into the sky. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto tried to hold on, but his hands were still sweaty, and with little grip to keep him ahold, he slid off of the rocket, falling, and watched as Junko continued, soaring through the night sky, the stars twinkling. The rocket exploded to reveal a firework image of Junko riding it, who winked—seemingly at Makoto himself—and then took a seductive drag on the firework cigar before she ostentatiously blew a firework smoke ring into the sky, gloriously lighting up the night. He could not help but smile a little at her fireworks, so utterly Junko-like—but such an endearing moment was quickly interrupted by the leftover bits of the fireworks dropping into a ring of fire around him into the ground. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He scooted away from the fire and sat in the dirt in the forest, beside the ruins of the festival. It was not his time to die yet. Or was it? He wondered when he saw what looked like a shooting star, heading straight for his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something crashed into him, and Makoto fell over onto the ground, blinking blankly as he lay on the ground. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The something was Junko, and she was sitting on top of him—straddling him. She was a sight to see, and not because she was beautiful, though this too was true; she was covered in soot and parts of her yukata were smoldering, holes in the fabric ringed with singed black. She leaned down and took her cigar out of her mouth, tapping its ashes out centimeters away from Makoto’s head, smiling in the insane way she usually did when she was high off of despair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What a night, am I right?” she giggled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto gulped and looked away from her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No thanks to you,” he said, almost bitterly. But he was too nice to be sour about it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Junko laughed dismissively. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a night you’ll remember forever, though. Immortalized in the history of Tanabata Festivals.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is this why you did it? Chasing me around with explosives and blowing stuff up?” Makoto demanded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Junko shook her head and took a drag from her cigar before answering. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, of course not, silly! I wanted to see you suffer, and I wanted to feel despair,” she responded happily. “You little nitwit.” She flicked him on the forehead, and he blinked reflexively. “Daww, did that hurt? Here, I’ll kiss it better.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She bent down and placed a rather gentle kiss on Makoto’s forehead, and for a moment, just a moment, he thought it would not be too bad to date Junko Enoshima. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then she stepped away from his body and aimed a gigantic rocket launcher at him, courtesy of her other half, Mukuro, and he was brought back to reality. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto scrambled to his feet and began running in the opposite direction. He watched as a missile shot by Junko and meant for him tore through a tree less than a meter away from him. The missile soared upward and disappeared into the sky. He shuddered to think what would have happened to him if the poor tree looked this miserable. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As for Junko, she had been slightly put out at her newly failed attempt to kill Makoto, but not too put out—after all, there was still much more to come. However, she did notice the unfortunate lack of sparks coming from her cigar, which truly was put out. With a smirk, she looked in Makoto’s direction and started to walk over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sound of Junko’s footsteps alerted Makoto to her presence, and he turned and watched as she made her way over to him with swaying hips and a sultry smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, well, if it isn’t the man of the hour.” She took the cigar from her mouth, the head of the cigar dragging sensually against her lips, which were glossy and moist. “Got a light?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before he could answer her, though, fate had decreed its will, and a bolt of lightning struck the earth just millimeters from Makoto and hit the tip of Junko’s cigar straight-on, relighting her cigar and blasting her into the air. Makoto watched with an open mouth as Junko went flying away and over the trees of the forest beside the festival grounds in what was a rather spectacular manner. At least, if not for how ridiculously perilous the situation was, even if it was just like the way cartoony villains got sent flying out of the panels in the comic books Makoto avidly read as a child. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he realized he was holding his breath, he started taking sputtering breaths once again; the dynamic and chaotic nature of all that Junko involved him in seemed to have startled him into a moment of shock. Makoto took a seat against a tree close to where the festival was, one of the few that was thankfully still in one piece. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>From here, he could see all of the festival grounds, and it appeared as though people were salvaging the remains of the festival and setting up to have fun again. Fires were put out, stands erected once again, and children were playing games at different stalls with bright smiles on their round faces. With a smile of his own, Makoto walked into the festival. At least Junko had not completely demolished the festival grounds. It appeared hope would prevail yet again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto walked to a booth and purchased a candied apple. He strolled and surveyed the area with a lenient eye, warmth fluttering inside as he watched the children play with yo-yos and run around. Finally, he could enjoy the festival a little bit and live like he was just 18 years old—or maybe not. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Makoto! Maybe you should check your pocket.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What for?” he said, and looked at his back pocket, only to find a stick of dynamite lodged there snugly. “Gah!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He grabbed it, avoiding the spark, and chucked it into the woods. ‘Sorry, trees,’ he apologized internally. ‘Crisis averted,’ he thought to himself and wiped the sweat off his brow. He was getting tired of the whole defying death deal and running away from explosions all night. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was then that Makoto happened to notice out of the corner of his eye a hint of blond hair. The smell of a cigar wafted through the air and mingled with the scents of oil and sweets. Junko’s lustrous, long hair had become undone, her hairpin from before having been blown off when lightning struck her, and the tip of her cigar, sitting comfortably between her lips again, was crackling with electricity. Along with those details, he saw in her hands a gigantic, colorful, festive-looking mallet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sweet dreams, Makoto!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He barely had the time to panic or form any coherent thoughts before he found himself hammered with the mallet Junko was wielding. It would not be until later when he was conscious again that he would realize the mallet’s uncanny resemblance to the Mallet of Luck, Uchide-no-Kozuchi. It was an unfortunate coincidence—though knowing Junko, it probably was not a coincidence but another sick joke she had prepared for his torment and thus her amusement. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A burning sensation on his cheek forced Makoto out of his unwilling slumber. He reflexively jolted his body away from the source of the pain. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wakey-wakey, Makoto! Sleeping beauty’s got to wake up now unless he’d like another kiss to wake him up a little more thoroughly,” Junko chuckled, now holding the culprit of Makoto’s first, burning kiss—her cigar—between two slender fingers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He woke up to the breezy night air and found himself perched on a ledge a little bit above the festival. It was an ideal place for viewing fireworks. Aside from there being Junko Enoshima nearby, that is. His cheek was stinging, and he could feel the ashes sticking to his sweaty skin unpleasantly from the tip of Junko’s cigar she had unceremoniously and firmly pressed to his face. He itched to rub them off and cool his burn, but he felt too sluggish to move. His head was pounding as if Junko had somehow hacked into his brain and managed to lit fireworks inside it. With her abilities, he would not doubt the possibility if he did not remember that he had been whacked over the head by the oversized mallet she had been holding. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Makoto! You’re awake! I thought I’d have to kiss you again. Our main attraction is almost ready,” Junko cooed with delight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still woozy, Makoto looked around in a daze. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh? Main attraction?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Junko walked over to an enormous black cannon, which was swathed in bright, gaudy streamers and had strings of paper origami stars hanging off its sides like colorful, sparse bead curtains, and she laughed maniacally. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look, it’s a cannon! It fits a human—or two—inside! All I gotta do is light this baby, and you’ll go boom boom!” She took a nice, long drag on her cigar before pursing her lips and letting out a stream of smoke. “I borrowed the cannon and mallet from our adorable, tiny upperclassman, Hiyoko. Not that I asked her or anything, but never mind that—aren’t they simply magnificent?” She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered in delight, her face pink with excitement and her trembling lips pressed together. “Ooh, I just can’t wait!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sauntered over to him and leaned in close, the tip of her fat cigar brushing against his nose sootily. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you’ll be the guest of honor tonight, Makoto! Ooh, I’m so excited! I simply can’t wait!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With that, she brought the humongous mallet that’d knocked Makoto unconscious to the end of her cigar, lighting the mallet on fire—it was easily flammable or perhaps coated in a flammable substance. With a single swing of her mallet, she hit Makoto into the air with a flourish, spinning in a crude and yet undeniably beautiful manner before sending the flaming mallet hurtling straight into the sky with a great throw. The eye-catching hammer spun just as Junko did, and it burst into an elaborate, magnificent display of fireworks. The firepower behind the mallet came from the excessive amount of firework powder tightly packed into its head, which had also made it a weighty and fearsome weapon for Junko to brandish before it exploded. Although Makoto was too preoccupied with soaring into the air and subsequently falling, the rest of the festival-goers were able to appreciate the large, colorful image created, which was a resplendent copy of the mallet before it had exploded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto dropped into the mouth of the cannon almost perfectly. The rest of the firework mallet fell out of sight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey! Get me out of here!” he banged his fists on the curved metal from inside the cannon, but it was useless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No way!” Junko snorted. “You’re live on television and streaming online. Be nice to my viewers! And of course, we’re close to the festival too, so they’re gonna have front and center seats to you getting shot outta that cannon!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to really die this time,” Makoto groaned and put his face in his hands, sitting in the darkness. Hopefully, Junko would set out some fireworks, and his death would not seem too grim. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course you will, sweetie! Now it’s time to light this baby,” Junko shouted into a giant megaphone enthusiastically. People from the festival looked up at her to see what was going on, curious. “Once I light it, there’s no going back! This fuse can’t be put out. The cannon will be shot tonight, and the lucky rider is going to be Makoto! What a fine opportunity you have to see this special view tonight, folks! Happy Tanabata!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Junko took the long fuse of the cannon, which was extended for dramatic suspense, and put the end of her cigar to the fuse, lighting it. She climbed onto the barrel of the cannon cheerfully and plugged her ears, a smile stretched from cheek to cheek on her face. But of course, shooting Makoto into the sky just wouldn’t be complete without a good jab at him before. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She scooted up the cannon and popped her head into the mouth of the cannon. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Makoto-whoah!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Junko tumbled inside in a surprising show of uncharacteristic clumsiness. With the shaking of the cannon from her falling inside, Makoto fell forward and dove face-first into her chest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mmph!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Somehow, Makoto managed to extract himself from her chest, but not without a lot of awkward shifting in their positions inside the cannon. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, this would be the part where I punch you into space—except that the cannon’s going to do that for me,” Junko snickered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gh! Sorry,” Makoto said, feeling his face grow hot. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No harm done,” Junko said. “Except that you’re tarnishing a young girl’s purity,” she teased him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto sighed and shook his head in exasperation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anyway, look at what you’ve done. Now we’re both stuck in here. This wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t tried to shoot me out of this humongous cannon.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Junko corrected him. “This wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t avoided death earlier when I was setting off explosives.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Makoto exclaimed. “So I’m just supposed to lay down and explode from a stick of dynamite?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” she confirmed. “That’s what’s supposed to happen. Or you’re supposed to be unlucky and get hit by a piece of flaming debris.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what’s the point in all that?” Makoto asked cynically. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because I like you,” Junko said rather abruptly. “That’s why I’ve been chasing after you all night and setting off explosives near you. I just wanted your attention all along.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto rolled his eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re joking, aren’t you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I’m not,” she replied, and for once she sounded serious. “I like you, Makoto.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked at her blue eyes, blond hair, and torn up yukata. Junko Enoshima was quite possibly one of the most beautiful girls he had ever met, not to mention one of the most insane girls he had ever met. And yet, was it possible? He stared at her, trying to decipher her, and then she burst into laughter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bwahaha! You’re so naive, Makoto. How could I ever like an ordinary, non-despair-inducing guy like you?” she said cuttingly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yeah, she was the same Junko he had always known after all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto sighed, looking at the still-lit cigar in Junko’s mouth. Honestly, the nerve of this girl… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wait. The cigar was glowing rather brightly, which let him see a little. It seemed like there was a chink in the cannon somewhere next to his butt. He felt around and pressed at it, and he suddenly fell through the walls of the cannon and onto the plain ground. A sense of relief coursed through him as he glanced up and saw the hatch close back up. Makoto stood and ran. The cannon had been elevated, so there was ample space under it to stand and walk. The fuse seemed to be running out as the spark traveled closer and closer to the butt of the cannon. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Meanwhile, Junko sat in the cannon comfortably. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He got away again,” she sighed. “How despairful… But on the bright side, the cannon’s about to fire!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She puffed at her cigar in excitement. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is gonna be a good show.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She climbed out toward the mouth of the cannon and stuck her head out, looking around. There he was. Makoto had not gotten too far yet since it had only been a few seconds since he had escaped. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yoohoo, Makoto!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The person in question momentarily stopped running away and looked over. Of course. Who else would be calling his name? She was waving at him, too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wish you were here,” Junko winked at him and blew out a smokey heart ring before settling back inside the cannon, even though at that point, it would have been easy for her to simply climb out of the cannon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Outside of the cannon, Makoto sprinted away, plugging his ears. He stood safely in the forest and watched as the cannon shot out one Junko Enoshima, who appeared a dazzling shooting star bursting forth. Accompanying her takeoff were relentless waves of flashy, chromatic fireworks, interspersed with showers of gold fire. Following the launching of the cannon, not a second passed without another booming firework to fill the darkness hanging above. Hot, bright sparks flew out from the display, and the ground rumbled, quaking with the vibrations and noise of the massive contraption exerting—no, unleashing—its force. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes! Despair!” she shouted. “Woohoo!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The distance made her voice seem faint, but it was miraculous Makoto could even still hear her at all amid all the noise. People were watching from the festival grounds, clapping and cheering for her. After all the trouble she caused, they were rather happy she had been shot out of a cannon to somewhere hopefully far away from the night’s festivities. Makoto himself was simply relieved that it was not him who was shot out of that cannon. Who knows what would have happened to him?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And with that, the night of the Tanabata Festival came to a close; it was a grand finale truly befitting of all that had preceded it. The shining Junko Enoshima disappeared into the night sky, brilliantly twinkling out of sight with a “</span>
  <em>
    <span>ding!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A fitting end, don’t you think?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyouko was standing next to Makoto, who startled at her words and glanced at her briefly before looking back at the beautiful night sky. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kyouko? When did you get here?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was here all along,” she smiled. “You ran over here after I got here.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you were going to just watch as Junko shot me out of that ridiculous cannon,” Makoto said in an accusing tone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyouko shook her head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I knew it’d end up like this.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto turned his head to look at her. Kyouko’s pink eyes were shining slightly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you open the cannon hatch to help me escape?” he questioned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Neither confirming nor denying his words, Kyouko just smiled mysteriously. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll just say it was lucky that you escaped her plans again. As expected of the Ultimate Lucky Student.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was then that Makoto felt something hit his head as it had simply dropped out of the sky—and it might as well have; when he caught it after it bounced off his noggin, the object in his grasp turned out to be Junko’s lighter, now safely in his possession. It must have fallen out of her pocket when she blasted out of the cannon. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto turned his gaze back to the night sky where Junko twinkled out of sight, the sky no longer brilliantly lit up by the fireworks or Junko’s ride through it. Despite all that he had gone through tonight at Junko’s expense, with attempt after attempt to blow him up, he hoped that she was alright wherever she ended up landing. Though, it was not exactly his first time seeing Junko get caught up in these kinds of things: mishaps, or adventures if you will. That is if you liked for your adventures to constantly put your life at risk. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He glanced down at the lighter clutched in his hand, the smooth metal reflecting the pale moonlight that now shone forth in the absence of other flashy light displays. He sure hoped that Junko would maybe, just maybe, grow out of her extreme antics and unusual disposition for attracting—or, making—trouble someday. </span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <b>Omake</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Junko flew through the sky, her trusty cigar still in her mouth, and she protected the end from the wind as it burned vicariously. With no way to slow down her rocky flight—assuming she even would want to—and the multitudes of explosive power from gunpowder and other contraptions still on her person, Junko ignited most gloriously. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>From far away, the scorching ball of fire she became seemed to be a shooting star soaring through the night sky. As she blazed through the sky in a fury of orange, the people down below gazed up in wonder and, thinking she was a shooting star, made wishes on her. If she had been cognizant of this, Junko would have fallen into despair from accidentally turning herself into a symbol of hope. It contradicted all that she aimed to be and for the most part, still was, if not for her current appearance that had temporarily elevated her into an unidentified flying object that could hypothetically grant wishes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thanks to all the power in the cannon that Junko fastidiously prepared, her flight through the sky travelled a great ways away from the festival. If she were to hazard a guess, she’d traveled hundreds of miles at the very least, and for a brief moment, she thought she might’ve lost consciousness as she reached space, where the air was thin and unforgiving. But luckily—or unluckily—Junko quickly started free-falling back to earth. The wind gave a great roar past her ears as it clawed at what was left of her already ripped and thoroughly burnt yukata. The air pressure adjusted with her great fall, allowing her to breathe, even if she was still dropping at a dangerously accelerating rate. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a big splash, Junko plunked into the water by the shore of a deserted island, effectively extinguishing her cigar and herself. Being completely submerged in the water, she flailed until her head was out of the water again and sputtered slightly, though she kept a firm grip on her cigar. A trusty keepsake like her cigar should always be at her side, after all. It was custom-made, too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When she made it to the sandy white shore, crawling and coughing, she clambered back onto her feet and attempted to dry herself off, wringing her hair and the rags of her clothes. She was alive and surprisingly well, aside from being thoroughly charred and bruised from her ride through space. But even escaping with that amount of injury seemed to be getting off lightly, considering all that she had gone through. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Junko chewed on her cigar, which now faintly tasted of saltwater from the ocean, though she didn’t need the cigar to taste the salt—her mouth was already tainted with the ocean water after she’d unceremoniously been dumped into the water and half-drowned, like a cube of sugar might be dropped into a cup of hot tea. At least she didn’t simply dissolve the way sugar did, though, and the water was lukewarm, being summer. She felt around herself for her lighter so she could relight her cigar, but it was nowhere to be found. All she came up with was the fine grains of sand sticking to her damp skin. Junko sighed. It must have dropped out of her pocket on her ride over here. Hopefully, it would set some trees on fire and bring despair somewhere, she thought to herself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can’t a girl just smoke a cigar?” she complained. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But at least she did not have any more explosives or fireworks to set off anyway, she thought to herself. It had been a good night, though. It was despair-inducing that she ended up getting shot out of the cannon instead and that Makoto escaped a gruesome fate yet again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Makoto sure is one lucky bastard,” she reflected. “Well, I guess he hasn’t really got anything else going for him, though, so it’s his one saving grace. Everything else about him is the most average of the average.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looked out over the open waters and dark sky, watching some fireworks faintly go off in the distance. The myriad of colorful lights was beautiful as they sprinkled in and out of existence, even dimmed by how far away she was watching them from. They reminded her of all that’d happened during this one night, which inevitably led her thoughts to the past times she’d attempted to put Makoto in extreme danger in her usual despair-inducing manner. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fondly, she remembered when she’d gently nudged Makoto toward the train tracks by swinging her school bag toward him—there wasn’t much in it, really, just a few bricks—only for him to trip and spin, falling in the opposite direction and comically face-planting on the train platform, whereas Junko had also tripped, but toward the actual train tracks. The oncoming train had barrelled straight into her, and she’d landed a good ten meters away from the train from the force of impact. They’d rushed her to the hospital, where she was put in an entire-body cast and stuck in the plain white room, bored to death for a few months. The only minimal comfort was that she had her other half, Mukuro, to be her hands and feet while she was immobilized. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were a few other instances that Junko had tried to put Makoto in danger, from plain incidents like locking him in the freezer room in a warehouse, to movie-esque occurrences like following him on a crazy car chase with Mukuro behind the gun and shooting at his car. Each time, she had met her defeat in all kinds of different ways, shameful, odd, and painful—and yet, oh-so enjoyable. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As she watched the fireworks, it suddenly occurred to her that one of those so-called fireworks was actually the missile she’d fired off earlier, and it was hurtling straight in her direction at Mach speed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh-oh.” </span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>Makoto was holding a teddy bear plushie and eating konpeito, candied stars, when he noticed a huge, billowing mushroom cloud in the distance. Along with it came a deafening, faraway kaboom that rumbled the ground and sent tingling vibrations up his legs. The top of the cloud had ears and the fluffy shapes had an uncanny resemblance to the head of Junko’s beloved Monokuma. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His phone vibrated with a notification, and he pulled it out only to see a message from Junko, which read: </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m alive!😁✌️ Bet you would be dead if you were me 💕💕I’ll get you next time 😜” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His phone vibrated again, and a photo appeared in the chat. Did he even want to look? He sighed. Better to know what was going on, after all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tapped on the photo to reveal Junko herself, covered in black ashes from head to toe. Her yukata was even more torn up than the last time he’d seen her—it was more shreds of scorched fabric than an article of clothing at this point—and the overbearing cigar was still snug between her lips and lit. It looked like the cigar had been relit by the explosion of the missile's remains, which he could see in the background of her photo, just next to her feet. As expected of Junko: not even a ride through space from a massive cannon and fall from grace could defeat her, and neither could a military-issue missile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Makoto was not looking forward to the next time. He very much hoped there would not </span>
  <em>
    <span>be</span>
  </em>
  <span> a next time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But the fact that Junko was alive ensured it, and he put his phone back in his pocket, accepting his fate. Hopefully, the next time, he would come out alive and safe again, if not a little ragged. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading! You can find me on Twitter or Tumblr @luxexhomines!<br/>I post my Danganronpa writings primarily on Tumblr, and I link my Obey Me! writings on Twitter.<br/>Are you interested in me writing for you? I plan on holding writing raffles for mini-milestones (follower-wise and perhaps for other things too!), so you can try your luck there! You can also read my card, linked in AO3, Tumblr, and Twitter! I'm currently working on a prize for a recipient of a previous giveaway. I also like to show WIPs of my writing on Twitter sometimes (mostly Obey Me!).<br/>Feel free to catch me anywhere and send me a message! I'd love to chat with you about anything and everything.<br/>Take care and stay safe! ♡♡♡</p></blockquote></div></div>
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